Chapter Seven --

 

I excused myself, retreating to the sumptuous bathroom with the little blue bag, a black jersey dress, and my toiletries case in hand. I might not be able to join my fellow passengers in the main dining room, but I could at least look like I was enjoying my cruise. After I showered, I slipped on a pair of snakeskin-print flats, gold button earrings, and a gold necklace. I ran a brush through my curls, dabbed on some makeup, and gave a final glance in the mirror before rejoining the folks in the living room.

Bob was on the verandah, deep in conversation. Lizzie was talking on her phone. That left the older man in the wild Hawaiian print shirt.

“You must be Mariem,” he smiled broadly. “You look lovely, my dear.”

“And you must be Mr. Weinstein,” I replied.

“One and the same. But call me Sammy. You’re young enough to be my daughter, but if you call me mister, I’ll feel like an old geezer, instead of a man of the world.” He gave me a wink. “Shall we get this party started? Why don’t we decide what we’re having for dinner? I have a menu here.”

Half an hour later, the four of us were eating the salad course when Lizzie’s pager went off.

“Boss, we’ve got a domestic. The husband had too much to drink and now he’s barricaded in the room, beating the crap out of his wife.”

“Where?”

“Cabin 734A.”

“Go. And keep me informed.” Bob grabbed his phone and started making calls.”Mary Sue, get me Rashid and Birdsong.”

“Why don’t we go out on the verandah and do a little star-gazing?” Sammy suggested. He gave me a bright smile, but his eyes were watching Bob.

“I take it that a domestic incident is tough to handle on the ship,” I remarked as we moved outside.

“Dangerous. You never know how far people will go. That’s a balcony unit, so we have to be prepared for the bastard to toss the wife over the railing, for her to jump, or for one of them to accidentally fall.”

“Were you a cop, Sammy?” I was making conversation in the soft moonlight. The verandah was illuminated by lamps, but I could still see the sparkle of the ocean below.

“Thirty years on the job. I was chief of police in a little town along the Hudson River.” We talked for some time about his years on the force. He shared stories about some of the more unusual cases he investigated. Joseph brought us our dinner on the verandah, followed by a dessert tray of assorted tartlets and coffee. I could see Bob still talking on the phone in the living room. Without warning, the peaceful night was shattered by the sound of a loud emergency alarm.

“Damn!” Sammy grunted. “Wouldn’t you know it!”

He was on his feet and into the living room a lot quicker than I expected for a man his age. I followed.

“I’ve got this, Bob. You go. She’ll be fine,” he promised.

“Lock up. Don’t open the door until you get confirmation. You know the drill.” Bob was already unlocking the suite door. Joseph stood ready. “You call if there’s anything unusual.”

“Go!” Even as that word was out of my mouth, I was surprised. “Hurry up!”

Bob did a double-take before shutting the door behind him. Who was I to tell the director of security for the Beauty of the Seas to respond to an emergency? And yet I felt that sense of urgency as the alarm trilled.

“Chutzpah,” Sammy grinned when we were alone with Joseph. “I like that in a woman. Makes her interesting.”

“I really don’t know where that came from,” I admitted. “I’m not in the habit of telling people what to do.”

“Don’t worry, Mariem. In this case, it’s a good thing to do,” he reassured me.

“How will they find the person who went overboard?” I asked. Sammy explained the procedures.

“We can’t see it because the cabin is on the other side of the ship, but there are a lot of spotlights trained on the water right now. We have a team trained for recovery, whether it’s for a live person or a dead body.”

The minutes ticked on, even after the alarm was silenced. Fifteen minutes after Bob left, Sammy’s phone rang.

“Right, boss. Right. On my way!” Sammy scrambled to get on his feet. “We’ve got trouble on the Lido Deck. Some jerk just went ballistic on the dance floor. Joseph, can you hold down the fort here? Don’t let anyone in until you get the 311 code on your phone, okay?”

“Sure. No problem.”

“I’m sorry about this, kid. Joseph will take good care of you.” Sammy reiterated the need to lock the door as he slammed it shut. Joseph quickly obliged.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

“Thanks.”

Joseph started to clear the table. He loaded the concierge cart with the dirty dishes and wheeled it over to the wall by the suite door. When that was done, he straightened up the room. The silence was almost overpowering. I couldn’t even imagine what was happening. I turned on the TV, flipping through channels until I found the ship’s station. There was a warning that the Beauty of the Seas was experiencing a serious emergency. All passengers were asked to remain where they were, to allow the ship personnel to respond to the crisis. The ship’s camera was trained on the bow, where a crowd had gathered on one side to watch the attempted rescue. I could hear muted voices through the audio link.

A thud startled me. Joseph was on his knees, curling up in a ball as he was tasered by a man dressed all in black, his face obscured by a balaclava. The intruder stood in the living room, waiting for the butler to drop again, and he quickly bound him with cable ties. I was on my feet, ready to move, with nowhere to go. If I went to the veranda, my only option was to toss myself over the railing to avoid the killer. I didn’t think I could get past the man in black and out the door. I thought about running into the bathroom and barricading the door, but his eyes followed mine and I knew he was faster and far more agile than I. He took a step forward.

“Why?” I asked. If I was going to die tonight, I had to know. “Why are you doing this? What have I ever done to you?”

“Nothing personal. I get paid to do this. Now, why don’t you be a good girl and make this easy on yourself?”

“I have a better idea,” said another voice, appearing in the bedroom doorway. “You get your stinking hands in the air before I lose my head and shoot your sorry ass to bits.”

“No, said another voice, coming from the verandah. “Let me take a shot at the bastard.”

“Better still, let’s all take a whack at the bastard!” Angelo growled, entering from the corridor. I was stunned to see all of the security people from the Beauty of the Seas pouring into the suite. The man in black was on his belly, hands behind his back, with little resistance. Bob gave me a big grin as he walked through the door.

“I told you I’d take care of you, Mariem!”

“Joe, you okay?” Angelo bent over the butler and cut him loose.

“No biggie,” said Joseph, standing up. He came over to me, extended his hand, and introduced himself. “Joe Sulunge, U. S. Department of the Treasury.”

“You’re not a butler?” I was confused. “But what about the domestic incident?”

“We needed to flush out Tom Terrific here.” Bob walked over to the man on the floor and removed the black hood. “Let me introduce Juan Tomas Jiménez Gomez, gun for hire.”

“I’m not talking! I want a lawyer.”

“Good luck with that, buddy. We’re at sea, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Tony sneered.

“I’m not going to be extradited!”

“How right you are. That’s because you’re not leaving this ship until we dock, three days from now.”

“You can’t keep me locked up! That’s illegal!”

“Are you sure about that, Sherlock? You boarded this boat in New York. You menaced an American citizen in international waters. You assaulted a federal agent. And you’re wanted for the murders of several people. You’re in the system for a long, long time, pal.”

The man in black was taken away, escorted by several security people, with Joe in charge.

“What did I miss?” I sat down on the sofa, stunned. “This was all planned? It was some kind of Treasury sting?”

“Not exactly,” Bob explained. “I told you the truth when I said that Assistant United States Attorney Megan Plourde wasn’t interested in you. She’s not. Declan Dowd, on the other hand, is under investigation. He’s suspected of hiring the guy who murdered Maura Trelawney and also hiring Jiménez to kill you.”

“But why? Why would Declan want me dead?”

Bob came over to the sofa and sat down next to me. He reached out a hand and patted my knee.

“Be prepared for another shock, Mariem.”

“What kind of shock?”

“Henri isn’t dead. He’s alive and living in Senegal with his mistress, Lorena del Gatos, also known as Maria Velez Suerto.”

“The woman who took over Maura’s accounts at Oracle?”

I sat there for several minutes without saying another word. My thoughts swirled around my head with no place to go. Henri was not dead. I was not a widow. I was a victim.

“The Treasury Department has had Declan under surveillance for seven months now. When he hired Jiménez to kill you, it was all recorded on tape. We knew you were in danger, so we came along for the ride.”

“Meaning what? You’re still a Treasury agent?” I glanced at Bob and saw him nod.

“You got me to open up about Henri. Why? Was I a suspect?”

He looked down at his hands as he put them on his knees and then he took a measured breath.

“Mariem, you’re married to Henri Dufours. When your husband came up on our radar screen three years ago, after that trip to Myanmar, it was because we had solid intel that he was laundering millions of dollars with his partner at Grenois, Louis Givernette. They had set up several international corporations that were raking in the bucks, legitimately and illegitimately. We’ve never brought you in for questioning because we didn’t want to tip our hand. But we did need to know whether you were aware of Henri’s business dealings.”

“And now?” My voice sounded bitter, defeated.

“Now comes the fun part,” said Bob cheerfully. “We’re going to bump you off.”

“What?”

“Once you’re dead, Henri and his friends won’t look for you any more.”

“But the killer will know he didn’t kill me!”

“Actually, he thinks you’re a Treasury agent, posing as the woman he was hired to kill. We supposedly hid you in Cabin 734A, where a second contract killer succeeded in killing you.”

“There was a second contract killer?”

“Nice touch, right? We’ve floated the story that someone from the cartel sent a hit man after you because the Justice Department was launching an investigation into Grenois Financial. Two bodies are about to wash up, yours and the non-existent hit man, and they’ll be retrieved by the United States Navy, who just happen to be conducting maneuvers in the area as part of a training exercise.”

“Very convenient,” I told him sardonically. I wasn’t really sure how I felt about all this. Everything was upside down and nothing was right side up. But somewhere inside of me, there was a little piece of hope growing. Maybe I could finally put the ghost of Henri to rest, even if he was still alive.

“It is, isn’t it?” Bob responded jovially. “Care to watch the action? The Navy should be arriving any moment.”

The Beauty of the Seas was lit up like the Fourth of July, all her lights aimed at the water, as a frigate arrived on the scene. We watched as teams of divers were dispatched in six Zodiac inflatable boats. They spread out across the sea in search of the non-existent bodies.

“The Navy gets a chance to run a real training mission, we have eyewitnesses who see the recovery of the bodies, and you get a new life.”